It was characteristic of himself in its brevity. "Kind and faithful Friend,— "The prodigal has returned. The Father met and embraced him. He has put off his tattered garments. He has a new robe on him. His voice rings with a new song. In the better words of another, this is the language of his heart,— "'I cannot love thee as I would, Yet pardon me, O Highest Good! My life and all I call mine own I lay before Thy mercy throne. And if a thousand lives were mine, O sweetest Lord, they should be Thine! And scanty would the offering be, So richly Thou hast loved me.'" A few days later Marion went to Grantbury in answer to a summons from her uncle. The outside walls of the church were finished, with the exception of the spire. The men were at work on the dizzy height, and expected to finish it by the middle of September. The frame to the new house was raised and nearly boarded in. Mrs. Asbury said people were beginning to take quite an interest in it. One lady asked her point-blank if the clergyman intended to bring home a wife from England, to which she returned a decided "No." During her stay Marion made a hasty call at the thread and needle store to see the Widow Falkner. Mary had kept her mother informed of her condition, and also of the great kindness all the patients received, but she was delighted to see Miss Howard and learn particulars about her daughter. Then Marion drove half a mile in another direction for a call on Farmer Rand's wife, who was still an invalid. Seldom had her appearance created such an excitement. It was evident something pleasant had happened. "Talk of an angel, etc.," said the farmer, with a grand flourish of his hand. "Sit down, miss. You're as welcome as roses in June. How are ye?" "We've been thinking a sight about ye," added the gudewife. "We've had a letter. Maybe ye know it." "S-sh-sh, wife," making a sound like what he would make to quiet his oxen; "wait a bit, I’ve something to say. Now, miss, did ye ever hear about our church meetin'?" "Yes, indeed, I heard all the items in detail." "Wall, then, 't won't be breaking no Scripter rule if I do tell that I was moved to draw a few hundreds out of the bank and gin 'em to the Lord. 'T isn't that I'm a speakin' of. That 'ere's only the text to my sarmon, you see. The good book says, The Lord loveth a cheerful giver,' and I will say for myself and my good woman that the Lord He helped us to give that 'ere money with as good a will as though we were spendin' on 't to build a new bedroom out on our south side, as we've been a plannin' to do for a score o' years. Speak for yourself, Lucy. Am I stating your opinions correct?" "Yes, I was very glad you did it."